


The Way We Were

by ingberry



Series: And Then There Was Porn (summerpornathon 2012) [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Community: summerpornathon, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingberry/pseuds/ingberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s always like this – this hurried, silent meeting that’s just enough to scratch the itch, but never <i>enough</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way We Were

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge 2 at [summerpornathon](http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/): Give Some Fucks (Or Die) which was a fuck or die situation OR apocalypse/post-apoc.

Merlin trembles under his hands. He’s almost completely obscured in darkness and Arthur can only see the faint outlines of his face now that his eyes have adjusted to the near pitch black room. Running one hand over the smooth skin of Merlin’s chest, he lets his fingers follow the long expanse of neck before he comes to cup the face he wishes he could see. The sharp longing makes him push into Merlin almost angrily and he feels Merlin’s jaw work under the strain of keeping quiet. 

He remembers a time when he’d lay Merlin down on their bed, kissing his way down and down until Merlin pulled at his hair. Deliberately taking his time, Arthur would kiss the inside of his thighs and the jut of his hipbone, the tip of his tongue fluttering softly until Merlin would say _Arthur_ in a way that was meant to be berating, but came out as a breathy moan instead. And Arthur would smile and wrap his lips around the head of Merlin’s cock, swirling his tongue in the way that made Merlin writhe against the sheets, his hips pressing up into Arthur’s touch. 

The memory makes Arthur slow his rhythm, wrapping an arm around Merlin to push him closer as he gives a slow, almost tender, thrust. Oddly, or perhaps not oddly at all, this is what makes Merlin lose control of the silence they so desperately try to cling to. He whimpers softly, his fingers digging into Arthur’s back, and Arthur buries his face into Merlin’s neck, pressing a soothing kiss to damp skin. 

“Ssh,” he whispers and even the small hiss of sound makes them both tense. 

They know the guards are out there, that the small room Merlin’s magic had created in the wall under the pretense of doing maintenance on it can easily be discovered and they’d both be worse than dead. It’s always like this – this hurried, silent meeting that’s just enough to scratch the itch, but never _enough_. 

Pressing his lips to Merlin’s jaw, Arthur tries not to let the anger at the situation ruin another one of their rare moments. He holds Merlin tightly to him, quickening his rhythm until he’s so close to forgetting everything but the feeling of shuddering breaths against his ear and having Merlin under him, around him, kissing him until it seems entirely possible that they could crawl into each other and stay there. 

Merlin comes quietly, shuddering and arching up into Arthur’s chest, their kiss breaking. It’s too dark to see, but Arthur can imagine the way Merlin’s lips part, his breath coming in trembling sighs. Arthur tries to remember how Merlin would shout his name, moan, keen, and swear – always swear. There’s something breathtaking in the way Merlin just shudders quietly, but Arthur misses the way his name would sound on Merlin’s lips when he came. He tries to recall it as his body tenses with relief, muffling his soft moan against Merlin’s shoulder. 

When he finally lifts his head, Merlin’s fingers slip into his hair, pulling him close until their lips are barely touching. 

“I wish I could see you,” Arthur whispers in a voice that is barely there, muffled against Merlin’s lips. 

The fingers in his hair rub softly against his scalp: soothing, familiar patterns. “You will,” Merlin mouths back. “Soon. Morgana’s working on it.”

Arthur wishes he could believe it. He wishes he could believe that the magic camp will figure out a way to break their separation, because his camp seems to be fighting a losing battle. 

“Tell us if you need help. Diversions,” he says, trying to keep his words as succinct and quiet as possible. 

Merlin nods, pauses a little and Arthur can feel his eyes on him even in the dark. “It will work. I promise.” Merlin’s words are pressed to his lips like a kiss and Arthur lets himself smile.


End file.
